


The Moonshine Incident

by GlassesAreHot



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Minor Original Character(s), Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22347640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlassesAreHot/pseuds/GlassesAreHot
Summary: Dwight can have a little more origin story, as a treat
Kudos: 8





	The Moonshine Incident

Dwight stood in front of an ATM in a convenience store, the only one within walking distance of his apartment that he didn’t have to pay a fee for. He cringed as he pulled a twenty dollar bill.

Room and board wasn’t cheap in Seattle, and between paying student loans and his just-barely-useful health insurance premiums, his budget was stretched thin. He’d cut corners in his life where he could. Meals were some variation of rice and beans. Articles of clothing would be re-worn a time or two more than they ought to be. Cheap, perfumed shampoo and soap wreaked havoc on his skin. Dwight scratched an itch on his scalp, but with little satisfaction. His nails had been chewed down to slivers. He’d only been in Washington for a month and still hadn’t quite shaken his new home jitters. It was a step up from his life on the east coast

New Jersey, his home state, brought up grinding memories of trying to balance part-time jobs and classes throughout highschool, which eventually turned into toughing out shifts hungover to survive college. His peers weren’t kind to him as a teen, and only improved marginally as young adults, making Dwight yearn for a fresh start.

With his bachelor's degree in Communications, and a reference from a professor, Dwight managed to land a job in a tech advertising company as an office clerk. The moment he got the job he arranged to split an apartment with a distant friend-of-a-friend, and sold off his furniture and anything else he couldn’t bring with him on the cheap so he could pay the damage deposit and rent.

Dwight whipped his phone out and opened his email. In his email was an itinerary from his manager, letting him know his coworker would pick him up at a nearby cafe soon. He had some time and figured he could grab coffee while he waited

His boss, Benjamin Murphey, had made it clear to him that the trek was optional, but team players are always willing to be together, and a good team player is also open to new experiences. 

A small blue sedan drove up and parked in front of the cafe. A notification on his phone let Dwight know that his coworker, Scott, was here to pick him up.

Scott Bracksbey was an averagely-built man with ginger hair. He kept to himself around the office, and he seemed to get along well enough with their boss, Dwight knew that much. Scott motioned for him to get in.

“ ‘Afternoon’” Scott said as Dwight let himself him and sat down.

“Good afternoon,” Dwight replied. “Thanks for offering me a ride with you. I don’t have a car yet and I wasn’t sure about asking around.”

“Don’t mention it.” Scott said. “I don’t like to carpool daily because it sets up people's expectations, but you seem nice enough.”

"Sounds fair." Dwight supposed. He buckled himself in. Scott reverses the sedan out of the parking lot and heads onto the road. “I have some cash to chip in on gas.” Dwight chimed.

“Already topped up. Appreciate the offer though.” Scott said. Dwight felt a pang of guilt in getting a free ride, he’d normally feel like a burden in these scenarios, but he wouldn’t pretend there wasn’t a tinge of relief, as well. “So, have you been on one of Murphey's team building exercises before?”

“Only the ones in-office. Have you done one of these trips before?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve been to plenty. They’re nothing special, mostly shooting the shit while hiking somewhere. Couple of people’ll usually bring booze or what have you. I got a case of beer. I don’t mind a free night outta the house.” Scott hit the radio button. 

They drove off without much more than small talk, the radio filling the silence with an inoffensive Top 40 selection. It would be about an hour and a half until they reached their destination.

~~~

The trail was flat and partially paved for a few kilometers, then gradually became a steeper, as they began to climb a packed dirt and rock trail. 

There were four of them in total; their boss Benjamin Murphey took the lead, another cowormer, named Hunter, fell in place right behind him, while Dwight and Scott hung out back.

Scott was spot on in his description. Ben and Hunter mostly talked about hockey and work, and about drinking and other times they had been drunk. Scott's cans of lagers were already being passed around. 

"Hey, when we get to the campsite, I'm not setting up the tents this time. I got smacked with one of 'em rods last time. **"** Hunter remarked.

Scott rolled his eyes. "Guess you'll need to earn your keep this trip, Fairfield."

_ Well then.  _ Dwight thought. He ought to object, ask for help, but Scotts comment was already too much attention and he wanted to disappear.

"What, you think you're gonna do it alone? I'm the only one who knows how to set up Ben's weird ass tent properly." 

Dwight felt heat rise to his cheeks. His face had given his thoughts away.

He tried to focus on keeping his legs moving. He was never an athletic man, and had never been hiking for more than an hour or two on day trips. He knew he'd be sore later, and he was glad he thought ahead and packed light. 

"He's new anyways. When I was new to this company I was always ready to pick up the slack." Ben boasted.

"So we agree that Hunter is slacking?" Scott said.

"Oh most certainly. Mr 'ohhh, I don't wanna get hit by the rods' over here. Acting like he's earned the right to slack just because he doesn't understand the fundamentals of tent putting-upping."

"So we agree that  _ you're  _ slacking, hm?" Scott said with a raised eyebrow and a cheeky smile.

" _ Ha!  _ You're damn right. I love doing nothing, everybody loves doing nothing even if they won't admit it"

"That sentiment only changes when you want to go into the great outdoors, then?" Hunter said.

"It's damn worth it. I know you love these trips too."

Dwight could at least see why they enjoyed themselves. The view was incredible, vast mountain ridges dotted with lush forest, and occasional undulating hills that burst with colour from wildflowers. He spotted the occasional marmot, and he loved being able to stay and watch raptor birds fly around, it was far nicer than the times he merely glanced at them while he was driving.

"Hey Dwight?" Scott piped up, stifling a laugh.

"Hm?"

"Did you hear about the claustrophobic astronaut? He just needed a little space!" Scott elbowed Dwight and let out a laugh. "Hey Hunter, did you hear? About the claustrophobic astronaut?"

"Yeah I heard you. It's a good one."

"I just came up with it "

"You read it in a reader's digest." 

"Nah, I came up with it. Anyways, Hey Dwight, why doesn't Hunter trust atoms? Cause they make up everything!" Scott's face was flushing and he was giggling like he had just told the worlds best knee slapper.

"The hiking part is going to feel so much longer if you do this the whole way." Benjamin said.

"I'm a simple man with simple humor, misster Murhphey." Scott replied.

"Yeah, let the man talk, Mr. Murphey." Hunter backed him up. "If anything, some tipsy Scott is more entertaining than talkin about upcoming projects for the hundredth time. 'Sides, I thought you like hiking?"

"I like camping away from people, I don't like that I have to spend so much damn time getting there. If you all work hard, and make the company lots of money, some day I might be able to afford my own camping property!"

Dwight cringed.

~~~

Benjamin was heating a cast iron pan over the firepit, intending on cooking pork chops. 

They finally had the camp set up. Dwight let out a hard-earned sigh and sat down on one of the log benches. His body was worn out, the sheer act of sitting was heavenly and he did not look forward to getting up again. He jumped when Scott touched a cold can to his shoulder.

“Well earned, this one.” Scott said, a can of beer in each hand. “”You want one?”

“Oh? Oh! Yes, of course.” Dwight wasn’t particularly in the mood for one, but he hadn’t expected his colleague to be so chummy about it, he couldn’t resist.

Scott handed him the beer. He plopped down right beside him on the log and cracked open his own can. Dwight couldn’t help but feel a smidge giddy on the inside. He had felt isolated and invisible for so long, it was nice to be acknowledged, to simply sit by another person and exist.

Hunter eyed his greenhorn colleague. “Didn’t think to bring anything yourself, huh?” he asked. Dwight’s heart jumped, his glowing mood suddenly draining from him right then and there.

“Oh piss off for once, you hypocrite.” Scott snipped back.

“Hypocrite? We brought moonshine! Ey Benny, where even is the moonshine?” Hunter asked.

“Oh, fuck right off! You can’t ride someone's coattails like that, just waltzing and signing your name on the card last minute like an inattentive father.” Scott retorted.

Hunter snorted. “Still not over your favourite step-dad leaving and gotta project, huh?”

Scott had a knowing smile that let Dwight know that they were just ribbing each other, and he could try to settle his mind back down.

Scott turned back to Dwight. “Do you like whiskey? Ben’s family has their own recipe for the stuff. He gave me some for Christmas.”

“Best in the Northwest, I always say!” Benjamin exclaimed. He broke from the campfire to move his traveling pack over and sat on the log left to his coworkers. “My dad taught me, and his pop taught him, and so-on and so-forth”. He retrieved a jar with a dense, clear fluid. 

“Well, traditions are always nice.” Dwight said, not sure how to add to the conversation

“Ben’s moonshine will knock you off of your ass.” Hunter chimed. He quickly joined the campfire on the right.

“It’ll put hair on your chest, and it’ll burn it back off.” Benjamin affirmed. He gently cracked open the jar and put the lid aside. He took his empty water bottle and poured some in before passing the jar to Hunter, who, not having any drinking vessels himself, didn’t hesitate to take a swig straight from the jar. His face scrunched up for a moment while he swallowed and a shiver went down his spine when he felt the liquid reach his empty stomach. Hunter passed the jar to Scott. Given the high alcohol content, Scott shrugged and figured that it should still be sanitary and sipped directly out of the jar too. 

“I’ve had better.” Scott said jokingly. “But it’s a tad stronger than beer, I’ll give it props for that, Mr. Murphey.”

Benjamin just waved him away. He seemed content sipping from his bottle while he cooked.

“You gotta have some, man. Can’t come out here hiking with us and not have some with us.” Hunter said. Scott passed the jar to Dwight. He held it under his nose and inhaled, then pulled back, offended by the smell. The fumes alone made him dizzy.

“Yeah, you can really smell the corn in this batch.” Scott said.

_ Fucking where? _ Dwight thought.

“We’d normally use a proper malt but had limited supplies this time around, so we had to make due..” Ben explained. “I say it’s still a family recipe. You still want a swig Dwight?”

Dwight was disgusted. The unfamiliar glass in his hands, the overwhelming scent, the eyes on him, even the nausea in his stomach, made him nostalgic. It was a position he had been in more than once, and he took comfort in the knowledge that he knew he could do this without embarrassing himself.

He tilted the jar and let just a few spoonfuls worth go into his mouth. Figuring with how strong his colleagues touted it to be, Dwight thought he should be able to get away with taking a small sip. The moonshine burned his throat. He grimaced, but his college years had tempered him enough to tough it out.  _ It’s done.  _ Dwight thought. He passed the jar to Hunter again, glad his turn was over with. He tried to wash the taste of moonshine out of his mouth with his beer, but he wished he had some juice or soda instead, he felt silly using beer as a chaser.

~~~

The sun stung Dwight's eyes. His heart was palpitating, his clothes and hair were damp from the ground and his sweat. He pushed himself off of the ground, and he groaned as he felt his aching, shaking body refuse to get up easily. He decided sitting was easier than standing, and he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, squeezing tightly. 

An incredible feeling of shame washed over him, but over what, he couldn't remember. The campground was empty. No tents, no bags, no fire. He was alone. 

His head pounded too hard to even think about the exact turn of events from the night before. There was laughter, definitely. Shouting, howling at one another. There was a party foul, he thinks.

He should've known better, he thought, that he could spend the night drinking with his coworkers of all people, without making a fool of himself. 

The smell of alcohol sweating out of his body was too much for him, another thing to remind him of how embarrassed he should be, whatever it was he had done. He finally found it in him to stand up and lumber over to the lake, collapsing back down beside the edge. It was crystal clear in the daytime, Dwight wished he had the mental energy to appreciate it. He cupped his hands and took a few large gulps and instantly regretted it, he gagged and coughed and his stomach nearly made him vomit. After waiting a few moments for it to pass, he tried drinking again, this time with smaller gentle sips. A few more minutes of rest let him stand up again, this time with more ease, and he could already feel his heart rate improving.

The blood drained out of his face when he looked down at his shirt, which was not just damp from the forest floor, but stained with bile he must have thrown up. His blood pressure dropped so fast that he almost fell down.

He wanted to take control of the situation and get his dignity back. He waded into the lake, fully clothed, not even minding how cold the water was. The temperature soothed him somewhat anyways, the late morning sun had baked him.

Getting hydrated improved his mood. He took the time to look around. There had been so much effort to hike up here, he may as well enjoy the lake in full daytime. He suddenly remembered his watch, grateful that it was waterproof. He glanced at it. 11:34. He's slept far later than that, so it's not the worst start to the day. His wading turned into swimming. The tops of tall firs, hemlocks, and cedars no longer blended into the dark, now they stood stark against a clear bright sky. If he had not been weighed down by his clothes, he would've liked to float on his back. 

A sudden sharp pain made him scream. He immediately began to thrash and kick hard, trying to shake off whatever had been stabbed into his leg. The water was getting red alarmingly quick, and his arms were barely splashing the surface as he struggled to stay afloat. He was being pulled down, he stared in horror as saw the last of the air in his lungs bubbling up to the surface. The sunlight was disappearing quickly, the water glided harshly against him as he was dragged far, far deeper than the lake should have been. 

Darkness surrounded him. His lungs felt as though they were filled with molasses, his ears had a deep pressure and all he could hear was water. His movements were so slow, he was certain he was doomed. 

But the pain in his leg had disappeared as quickly as it had come. With how much pain he had been in, and how much blood he lost, it must have been a deep wound. Whatever had grabbed him had already released him. He reached down to touch his leg, expecting to feel his mangled flesh wound, but all he felt was his in-tact pants and a solid leg. For a moment he considered he might be crazy. Or had he been so intoxicated, he had imagined it? He wasn't sure.

Suddenly the weight of the water disappeared, and he fell on his back about 4 feet off the ground, keeping the air out of his lungs for a moment longer. He was incredibly grateful for air again. Being able to breath felt like drinking a glass of water in the middle of the night, it was incredibly sweet. 

He was lying on a forest floor, surrounded by foggy, boreal woods. This was not normal. He got up and began to look for other people. This was not the same forest he had been in. It was night again, on the one day he had relished the daytime. He longed for the temperate rainforest, despite the previous night, at least there he knew he was home. 

The wet clothes he was wearing clung to his skin, sapping heat away from his body. His breath shivered and chattered, he held his arms tightly against himself for warmth and comfort.

His heart soared when he saw light in the distance. He picked up his pace, and his mind was filled with hope as a roaring campfire came into view. There were  _ other people _ , and at this point, all he knew was that he couldn't stand to be alone. His colleagues abandoned him, and he had been stripped from his new home. He had no idea of the trials that awaited him, but for the moment, he knew he could be safe.


End file.
